


Hurts 2B Human

by JamJar98, NerdyJibbsOreo



Category: NCIS
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:36:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamJar98/pseuds/JamJar98, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyJibbsOreo/pseuds/NerdyJibbsOreo
Summary: There was a strange kinship between them. This whole situation was… different. He tightened his hold around her, seeming to draw strength from her sudden affection. She drew comfort from the scratch of his stubble against her cheek.





	Hurts 2B Human

**Author's Note:**

> We own nothing you recognize.
> 
> Song Credit: Hurts 2B Human by P!kn ft Khalid
> 
> NerdyJibbsOreo and I had decided to combine forces and create a fic/fan video. Neither of us are overly fond of song-fics, but we gave it a try. She deserves most of the credit for steering me in the right direction when it came to writing this. We're aware that there are a lot of Slibbs moments that could have made it into this fic, but we chose the ones that resonated with us the most.
> 
> The following link will take you straight to Oreo's page on Tumblr for the video this was written for: https://from-stone-to-hallows.tumblr.com/post/187023532854/
> 
> Enjoy*

* * *

… _And sometimes I get so tired_  
_Of getting tied up in my thoughts_  
_ You're the only one that ever makes it stop_

Unhinged, it was the only way he could describe what was happening to her. Eating her from the inside, war raged in pools of copper. He'd been taken aback for a moment. Seeing a look in her eyes that had only loomed in his own reflection. Fear, anger – hatred. He'd never openly admit to being consumed by his past, but watching her wipe away fresh, hot tears as they rolled down her cheeks made him momentarily vulnerable. Sharing the darkest corner of his heart with her.

There was a strange kinship between them. She didn't sympathize with him, never offered a pointless condolence when he told her about his family. She never sighed a wistful, '_I wish I could change you_' breath when he became unbearable. She accepted his flaws and bastard-like tendencies, ignoring them and offering a kind touch or understanding look.

The truth had revealed itself, he now understood why she willingly tried to move mountains for Leon Vance. Survival always came with a price. In her case she was inclined to offer her life for a friend.

"_She's working for them."_

"_You don't know that." He knew damn well that she was right._

"_Don't second guess me, I'll do it with or without you."_

All he could do was offer her a tight smile as they finally tracked down the bane of her suffering. But behind the kind smile and alluring dark eyes this was far from over.

The sunlight was playing languidly with the sawdust as it floated in the air around him. He ran a thumb over the sandpaper, calloused skin catching against the roughness. Distractions were far and in between when it came to honing his craft of boat building.

He was worried about her, wondered where she had disappeared to the last three days. The ever so faithful secretary that had hounded him for the last four months had informed him hysterically that their in-house Forensic Psychologist had gone AWOL. The fib he'd given her had only intensified his own worries.

The sight of her atop the stairs had him stilling his distracted motion. She was a vision he hadn't seen in awhile. Blonde hair flowing freely, the stress consuming her slowly fading. He'd foregone asking why she arrived in his basement uninvited. He'd grown accustomed to her lingering around in the background.

The uncertainty in her eyes had him doing a double-take. She was worrying her bottom lip, on the verge of drawing blood. Dropping everything, he gave her his full attention, willing to be the shoulder she needed.

She didn't look at him as she made her way down the stairs, her sandals smacking on the concrete floor the only sound in the otherwise quiet basement.

A soft hand floated across the smooth wood, lithe fingers catching his as she stepped into his personal space. He could feel the dirt on her hands, wondered what she had been up to the last few days. She smelled like a summery afternoon, earthy and strong.

The force with which she hit his chest had him taking a step back. With her face buried in his neck, he placed his other hand on the middle of her back, running his palm up and down her spine soothingly. The hot breath on his neck was quickly accompanied by a flood of tears. She didn't make a sound, no quiet sob or heart wrenching whimper. He tightened his fingers that were entwined with hers.

"It's over, Jack, he's gone."

"Should've killed him."

"That's not who you are."

The words were spoken tenderly, accepting of what she had become and everything dark that lurked inside her.

* * *

… _You can count on me  
You know I'd have your back_

The clinking of cutlery was the extent of their dinner conversation. The full bottle of bourbon was nearing empty, and he'd only had a splash of the amber alcohol. She'd arrived all brave face and smiles, presenting some foreign dish as peace offering.

Jethro placed his hand on the whiskey bottle, stopping her from refilling her mason jar. She was beyond inebriated, one more shot and she'd be passing out. He'd been in her shoes many a lonesome night. Drowning the memories and sorrows in alcohol.

She glared at him, dark eyes burning with rage. He waited for the inevitable tongue lashing, he wanted her to fight him, any sign to show that she could still feel.

He _had_ done some digging after she'd revealed a little too much about her past. They had been drunk when she'd told him. Looking at her now, torn between leaving and spending the rest of their night in silence, he couldn't help but feel guilty.

There was no doubt that had the roles been reversed and she hadn't known about Shannon and Kelly, she would have done some of her own digging.

This whole situation was… _different_.

The pain of losing a child was crippling, yet he'd never been on the receiving end of the secrecy, _he_ was usually the one hiding his past.

"Jack..."

The force with which her head snapped up threw her off balance. She grabbed the edges of the dining table, trying to stop her head from spinning. She pressed her thumb against her lips, quickly allowing her teeth to nervously bite at the nail.

She forced a smile across her lips, hoping he'd stop looking at her like that… like he _cared_. It made everything worse. She'd said things in anger that she had hoped would drive him away. She hated how she wanted his reassurance that everything would settle back to normal. As comforting as his resilience was, she needed him to shun her, if only to justify her need to drown in alcohol.

The scrape of his chair on the old wood floors echoed in her head, spurring on the steady thump of a headache. The weight of his hand against her cheek nearly broke down all her defenses. It was a mistake coming here. Flinching away from his touch, she stood quickly, surprisingly steady on her feet.

Trailing his hand down her arm, he laced his fingers with hers, willing to fight her if she tried running away.

He'd guided her towards the couch, under no circumstances allowing her to drive. She had her legs draped over his, resting her head on his shoulder as she nuzzled her face against his neck. It was no different from how they spent every other night together since they had plummeted beyond the boundaries of being 'just friends.'

He felt her lean away, her breath heavy on his skin. She pressed a finger against his nose a little roughly, causing him to twitch it slightly.

"She got her father's nose." The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them. It was so many years ago that she held her own daughter in her arms for a few seconds.

Jethro pressed his lips against her temple, soothing the upset whimper she moaned against his shoulder.

"You did what you had to." He partially knew what she was going through, but he'd never understand the personal torture she was going through trying to live with her decisions.

"You deserve to know." She spoke demurely, eyes down cast as she studied the buttons on his shirt. "Least I can do is explain."

Jethro pressed a finger against her lips. "Tell me in your own time. 'Kay?" He preferred she told him when she was sober, the last thing they needed was another confrontation.

"Jack?" She pressed her face into his neck, indicting that she was listening. "_I'm always on your side._"

* * *

_Hope floats away_  
_If you could spend a day in my shoes_  
_ Your mind would change..._

Seeing him on the front steps of her house was more than just surprising. Given the events of the last few days she'd half expected him to high tail it to his basement after the funeral. The image he created, elbows propped up on his thighs and knuckles pressed tightly under his chin, was rather forlorn. Sitting outside was probably his way of staying out of her collection of uniquely aged bottles of scotch.

The tiny blue Mini beeped as she locked it. Studying his posture, she couldn't help but think that he almost seemed... broken.

Judging the distance between her car and the front steps, she didn't have much time to decide how she was going to approach him. Feelings had been hurt and even more secrets brought to light, judging by Tim's anger, it wasn't the first time. She was hesitant, they hadn't exactly left off on the right foot. He had caved in on himself, shutting everything and everyone out. It had been expected, almost two years and she was confident in herself to know her read on him was accurate.

"Hey ya, Cowboy." She smiled at him, despite the conflict of emotions. The last thing he had to deal with now was her feelings on everything that had happened.

He stared off into the distance, hardly acknowledging her presence next to him. She pursed her lips, her patience running thin. She'd been hurt by his need for secrecy and the realization that she had put him through the same was like a bucket of cold water.

The lack of a response seemed to signal how the rest of the conversation was going to turn out. Searching through her keys, she moved up the steps, determined to leave him outside until he felt like talking. It felt harsh, but showering him with affection was only going to send him running.

Jethro grabbed her wrist, a little harder than he intended. Stroking her skin apologetically, he tugged lightly. Forcing her to take a seat next to him, watching as she dropped everything on the steps as neatly as possible. Pressing his lips together, he inhaled deeply, the cold air stinging his lungs.

"Broke it off," he seemed to be looking for the right words in the empty street, "cause I loved her." He let out a derisive noise, shaking his head with a sardonic smile. "Ironic, ain't it?"

He looked to where her hand was clasped in his, her thumb running over his knuckles softly.

"We do what we think best." She squeezed his hand, stopping him from pulling away. The muscles in his jaw rippled as he clenched his teeth. "Blaming yourself isn't going to change anything."

The tension around his eyes seemed to tighten. "Easy for you-"

"Don't..." she warned. Pressing her fingers against his lips, she shook her head, trying to stop him from interrupting. "I understand, okay... more than you think."

Jethro blinked, kissing the tips of her fingers. He took her hand in his, massaging her wrist where he had grabbed her.

"You know, Gibbs, your team cares about you." Jack smiled tightly as he looked up at her. She brushed her hand over his cheek softly. "I care about you." Leaning forward, she placed a chaste kiss to his forehead. "You don't always have to be alone."

* * *

_God, it hurts to be human_  
_Without you_  
_ I'd be losing_  
_ And someday we'll face the music…_

Sometime during the night she had finally convinced him to lay down for a few minutes. The couch hadn't been ideal, but he needed some rest before he fell flat on his face from exhaustion. She'd watched him sleep, curled up in her own chair, trying to put together a profile with the little they had.

Taking a drink from her coffee, she placed his cup on the table, dreading the thought of forcing him to go back to work. Sitting on the edge of the couch, she placed a hand on his arm. He'd been awake for a while now, since his eyebrows stopped moving and he'd been in the same position for the last twenty minutes.

He looked worse for wear as he finally opened his eyes, unwillingly facing the reality. Pushing himself up, he reached for the steaming Styrofoam cup on the desk. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand. Cracking his neck, he looked over to Jack, noticing she had changed since he'd tried to get some sleep.

"You get any sleep?" Jethro cleared his throat, trying to sooth the rasp in his voice.

Jack shook her head, kicking off her heels and making herself comfortable on the couch. Licking her lips, she brushed a few strands of hair out of her face. "I was helping Ducky. He might have found a loophole for you to take the case."

The answer seemed to chase away some of the fatigue. Reaching inside her briefcase, she pulled out a fresh set of shirts for him. "Figured you might want to look decent."

Watching him change she opted to keep the conversation going. "No news from Tobias." She bit her thumbnail in thought. "No news is good news, right?"

Jethro simply raised his eyebrows in agreement, trying not to focus on how much he needed to feel her reassuring touch at the moment. Tucking his polo shirt in neatly, he took a seat next to her. He sipped his coffee, eyes trained on the door.

"You doing okay there, Gibbs?"

"Yeah, fine." He wasn't going to tell her that her office was the only place his ghost of an ex-wife couldn't bother him. Taking her hand in his, he covered her thumb, soothing the red skin.

Deciding against her better judgment, she moved closer to him, not caring who might stumble into her office this early in the morning. Pulling him against her, she pressed her face into the crook of his neck. He tightened his hold around her, seeming to draw strength from her sudden affection. She drew comfort from the scratch of his stubble against her cheek.

"Emily's strong, she'll pull through this." She whispered softly, not sure who she was trying to reassure.

Jethro nodded, smiling at her as she pulled away. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, stroking a finger over her cheek and nudging her chin gently so she could look at him. Slipping his fingers into her hair, he kissed her.

Parting for breath, he pressed his forehead against hers. "Jack, I-"

She cut him off by kissing him again. Running her fingers through the soft strands of hair, she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. Nudging his nose softly, she met his curious gaze. "Ditto, Cowboy."

_God it hurts to be human  
But I've got you..._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to all our lovely readers, and be sure to check out the rest of NerdyJibbsOreo's work on Tumblr or on her YouTube channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCfELhpoEu1OiRVFclkSmRBQ


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